


Slow You Down

by joaniedark



Category: All New X-Factor, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, M/M, Marijuana, Medicinal Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Medication, lots and lots of tags to try to find my fellow filthy stoners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-09 21:42:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4365239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joaniedark/pseuds/joaniedark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As everyone trickled away from Team Bonding Night, only Pietro and Remy were left. With an utterly unrelaxed teammate, it's only right Remy woud try to give a guy a hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow You Down

Pietro's foot tapped rapidly against the floor as Remy popped open another beer. The brunette glanced at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"You seem like more of an agitated cat than usual," he said, taking a sip of the bitter IPA.

"You don't say."

Remy laughed at Pietro's dark scowl. The lovely "bonding experience" in the team's living room had not exactly been his cup of tea. How he got into a "let's drink to excess and watch Face Off" fellowship was beyond him, really. It was almost like they were intentionally plotting his pain. There were two robots in the team, for god's sake.  __ Robots. _ _ If antything was less likely to get drunk than him, it was a robot.

People had slowly left to return to their rooms, leaving only the two of them still in the team's living room. A rock concert played mindlessly on the TV behind the giant  _ Delete Recording _ box that was still up from one of the night's featured presentations. Remy walked back from the kitchen and ruffled Pietro's hair, grimacing slightly at the heavy hoppiness of his drink.

"To be honest," he said, squeezing between Pietro's knees and the coffee table to get back to his spot on the sofa, "I'm impressed you made it through tonight. I owe Lorna ten dollars."

"Glad to hear my teammates are betting on my staying power."

"Phrasing."

"You're a piece of shit, I hope you know."

"I love you too."

Pietro rolled his eyes, grabbing the remote off the coffee table to exit out of the recording menu and turn off the TV. He jumped slightly when Remy clicked his fingers behind him.

"Hold up a minute before we shut this down; I have somethin' I've been meaning to share with you." Remy jumped off the couch, and Pietro absently watched him rush over to his room. He knew he could take this opportunity to get to bed and  _ away  _ from the other man, but instead he simply took solace in flipping through channels. When Remy plopped back down next to him, he had a tiny metal can and a plastic bag of something herbal in his hands.

"Does this explain why you were able to stomach as much Nic Cage and trash monsters as we've watched tonight?" Pietro said with a smirk, and Remy gave a cocky grin in return.

"Maybe I shouldn't share, if you gone act like that," he teased. He opened the cylindrical grinder, popping in one of the flowers from the bag and giving it a few turns.

"You can keep your illegal substances. They won't work on me anyway," Pietro scoffed.

"Maybe you won't get baked, but I believe you'll get a little toasty."

"I doubt it."

"You won't know til you try," Remy said, pushing a little of the weed in the bowl. Fiddling in his pocket, he pulled out a mini blowtorch lighter. "Look, don't think that I haven't seen the fact that you've got a mind that torments you at a thousand miles per hour. Hell, if your smart mouth bothers me as much as it does, I can only imagine that it's killing you up in there." He tapped Pietro on the forehead.

"Just watching out for a teammate, hm?" Pietro asked, grabbing Remy's wrist and lowering it back to the other man's lap. Remy grinned.

"Exactly. If you don't mind letting go, I think I deserve the first hit."

"By all means."

Pietro went back to clicking through channels, but couldn't help paying some attention to the man next to him. Somehow he made his inhale long and almost  _ elegant _ , and it seemed like he held the smoke in his lungs for far longer than Pietro had known a man to hold his breath. Upon a deep exhale, Remy offered the pipe over to him.

"Just click the lighter on, inhale to make it glow, and hold it in as long as you can." Pietro hesitated, and Remy added, "If you don't like it, I won't bother you about it again. Just wanted to offer the option."

Pietro accepted the pipe, his lips pursed in displeasure. He placed it in his mouth and set it alight.

The change wasn't  __ huge _ _ . It simply seemed like his mind was slightly hazy, the rapid firing of neurons slowing just a little bit.  __ Just  _ _ enough that constant screaming thoughts disappeared. The quiet was nice.

Still, it was obvious that after the two of them had had another hit that his companion was more affected than he was. Granted, the alcohol was probably still running through his system, while Pietro had lost what little buzz he could muster ages ago. He watched as Remy slouched back into the couch, as if being absorbed slowly. He handed the pipe back, and Remy nodded slightly.

"Appreciated," Remy said, taking the torch to the pipe immediately. His eyes closed slowly as he took a long, deep breath in. Pietro watched as his chest slowly expanded, as the muscles of his shoulders melted into relaxation. The way Remy let some of the smoke float from his mouth only to be inhaled through his nose was mesmerizing. He felt himself holding his own breath in anticipation, only letting go when pools of smoke escaped Remy's nostrils.

And just like that, Pietro's high broke. Hyperconciousness reared its ugly head back into the picture—he was staring. Staring at Lebeau. Not at his idiovy, just at him, enjoying staring,  __ enjoyment _ _ , dear god why did he enjoy it?  __ Nostaringnostaringnostaringno... _ _

"Your turn," Remy said, handing over the pipe again. Pietro snatched it, desperate for the quiet to resume. Ashes and a little bit of green went fluttering from the bowl to the floor. Remy slowly peeled off the couch, shaking his head.

"Calm down, you almost have me thinkin' them people saying one hit gets you hooked have a point," he said. His back extended elegantly as he stretched over the coffee table. He took a pinch out of the grinder and rolled back, refilling the half-spilled bowl. Pietro had it alight fast enough he almost set Remy's fingertips on fire.

"They _do_ have a point. I almost feel bad for being a bad influence," Remy chuckled, waving the sting away out of his hand. Pietro didn't pay him any mind, holding smoke in his lungs until he could feel the anxiety disappear again.

"You know what would be  __ really _ _ fun, cher?" Remy eventually asked, and Pietro frowned a little.

"Not sure how I feel about the tone of your voice."

"I should obviously bother you with it more then," Remy said, shifting his weight to roll onto Pietro's shoulder. The niggling thoughts started returning, wondering why most of him was  __ alright _ _ with this. He took another drag and it quickly quieted down. 

"So spit it out. What would be so fun."

"I could roll off this couch right now and suck your cock."

"Blunt as always. Your humor has a lot to be desired." Pietro rolled his eyes.

“I'm not joking, you moron,” Remy said in an amused tone as he flipped his body over Pietro's leg. Pietro froze up, watching the other man lazily start to slide down his body. Remy's ass wound up hitting the coffee table, knocking over a thankfully empty beer can before it dropped to meet his ankles. He looked up into Pietro's eyes, wiggling his eyebrows a single time. It took a minute for Pietro to gather his screaming thoughts to reply.

“You really meant _roll_ off the couch.”

“Yes. And...” Remy said, laying his cheek on Pietro's tense thigh, “I'd... _really_ like...to...suck...it.” The sharp emphasis Remy put on each consanent made a little shiver run through Pietro, and he had the strong urge to run his fingers through the mess of brown hair between his legs. They were silent a minute.

“Are you going to?”

“Cher, I have to have permission first,” Remy scoffed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I took you as a 'take what you want' sort of lothario.”

“You _wound_ me, Pete,” Remy said, pouting. He started to trace little lines on the inside of Pietro's thigh, making him shudder. _Fine, why not,_ a voice said in the back of Pietro's head.

“You have your permission, then,” Pietro said as haughtily as he could manage while trying not to bite at his lip. Remy looked up at him gleefully, and was instantly at Pietro's fly.

The fact that Remy's tongue was  __ not  _ _ rough like one of his cats' surprised Pietro more than it should have. His muscles clenched up at the strangeness of the view in front of him. He hadn't exactly been  _ looking _ for this kind of service for a while, certainly not from a teammate,  _ certainly _ not from the likes of Lebeau, but...well. He could see why Remy had gotten his reputation. 

Remy paused as he saw Pietro shift in discomfort. He had been in the middle of slowly dragging his tongue up the side of Pietro's cock, and his lower lip was still caught against skin as he studied the other man's face.

"Do you want me to back off?" he asked, stern sincerity in his voice. Thoughts were racing through Pietro's head, lust and longing tangling with insecurity and anger. The silent voices in his head  __ screamed _ _ that though he wanted it, it could only result in pain of some sort later. The thoughts shrieked at each other incessantly until he struggled to reply.

"No. Keep going."

"Of course," Remy said. He pulled his tongue up to the tip of Pietro's cock, then popped his lips around the head. Pietro let out a gasp that turned to a rattly moan. His head seemed to flip quickly between cloudy and painfully lucid, though the indescribable feeling of the other man's hot mouth was something he was certain shouldn't stop anytime soon. His eyes glanced around rapidly, looking to see where the grinder had wound up.

Remy noticed his searching quickly. He pulled back, smiling internally when a needy groan escaped Pietro. The other man had managed to find the grinder, but Remy found the pipe first, taking them both to refill the bowl. He arched his back up, stretching towards Pietro's face.

"What you need to do is just keep going with it," Remy murmured, placing the pipe between Pietro's lips with his right hand as he slowly stroked Pietro's cock with his left. He could hear the blonde hiss, saw the flicker of self-betrayal in his eyes as he involuntarily thrust into Remy's hand. Remy pressed the lighter into Pietro's hand and put it to the edge of the pipe.

“Light it.”

Pietro obeyed.

“Good boy. Keep breathing, keep it in you, and it'll keep you calm. I can tell it's helping.” He let go of Pietro's hand and sunk back down, watching to make sure the other man took a drag before he ran his tongue over his frenulum. Pietro pulled the pipe away and let out a long exhale, smoke flowing elegantly from his mouth. Remy was right, he knew. Every part of him _wanted_ the brunette sucking his cock right now; he just had to keep himself calm enough not to ruin the moment.

Pietro's lip curled up as he watched, his breath still steady though heaving. Remy's eyes were closed softly, complimenting the dreamy hum coming from his throat. His mouth glided smoothly over Pietro's shaft, taking ever so slightly more inside with every stroke. His hands had crept away; the heel of his left hand was rubbing through fabric against Pietro's balls in a way that made him fight not to squirm, nails dragged along the inside of his right thigh. Every noise he made seemed to make Remy double his efforts. He almost seemed like he was enjoying it even  _ more _ than Pietro. 

Pietro groaned as his legs spread wider on their own accord. He could  __ feel _ _ Remy chuckle, the head of his cock just tickling the back of the other man's throat. He let the pipe hang loosely in his lips as Remy's head bobbed, his tongue swirling at the base of his cock. The sensation started building in his stomach, his chest, blossoming through his body.

Pietro came with shallow thrusts, his orgasm rolling through him like gentle waves lapping at the shore. It felt...fulfilling, somehow. The perfect culmination of every touch, an overwhelming sense of wellbeing as opposed to sharp fireworks. As Remy pulled his mouth away, Pietro noticed him lick a strand of cum off of the corner of his smirk. He swallowed, the smirk growing bigger, before pulling himself up into Pietro's lap.

“Still flying high, cher?” Remy asked. Pietro noticed with some satisfaction that it seemed like the high _wasn't_ drifting away as fast now. Rather than answer, he grabbed a fistful of Remy's hair and dragged him into a deep kiss, the taste of weed and beer and semen lingering on his tongue.

“Damn, you must be,” Remy said through bruised lips, his vision hazy, gulping breath. Pietro smiled blissfully, running his fingers in Remy's hair, tugging at the roots gently.

“You're a terrible influence,” he said. “Thank you.”

 


End file.
